by Mari Carr
“I’m better now, Ty. Honest.”
He studied her face intently for a few moments and then his smile grew. “Yeah. I’d say you look ready to take on the world. You lose weight?”
“I’ve started running.”
“Running?” Caleb asked, not bothering to hide his surprise. “Thought you said the only way you’d take up running was if someone was chasing you with a knife.”
Tyson shook his head. “Actually, I think she revised that plan. Said she’d just lie down and play dead instead.”
“Very funny, assholes,” she said, loving how easy it was to be back with them. After the way things had ended, she worried it wouldn’t be this simple to put the pieces back together. Of course, they still had a lot of stuff to talk about, but she was grateful they’d shown up, that they were giving her a chance to set things right.
She appreciated Tyson’s encouragement as she glanced over her shoulder toward the front hallway. “Did you know my dad moved back in here?”
Tyson nodded and Caleb shrugged, explaining, “It’s Maris, honey. Man can’t take a dump in the woods without twelve people discussing it.”
“Crude, Cal. But accurate.” She sighed. “I just can’t understand why Granddad would let him come back after—”
“You’ve been gone a year,” Tyson said, cutting her off. “Some things have changed.”
Harley hated the part of her that hoped that was true. But she refused to get her hopes up, only to have them dashed by her dad again. Part of her reason for leaving Maris was because she needed to get away from the train wreck that was her folks.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Tyson said, still holding her hand.
Then Caleb reached over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. And just like that, everything in her world seemed to fall right back into place. The times she was the strongest, the happiest, the most secure, were these moments. When it was just the three of them.
Then before she could stop them from coming, the memories of the week Johnnie died crashed over her, assaulting her, taking her down. She’d done some crazy, irrational things, like running away.
Like kissing Tyson and Caleb. Together. In the barn.
The memory of those kisses had woven themselves around every aspect of her life while she was away, keeping her up at night, distracted during the day, and so hot and bothered, it was a physical ache that never left her.
Her entire life had changed the week Johnnie passed away, and the time away hadn’t altered any of it.
Granddad still made chili once a week. Maris was still filled with busybodies and gossips. Her parents were, most likely, still fucked up. Johnnie was still gone.
And she was still completely in love with both of her best friends.
Chapter Three
Tyson kicked back in the Adirondack chair, resting his feet on the ledge of the fire pit as he took a sip of coffee. The sun was just peeking out behind the trees on the other side of the lake. It wasn’t quite seven yet. He’d always been an early bird, but that habit grew when he bought this house on the lake. There was nothing like the crisp morning air or the gentle lapping of the water against the dock to start the morning off right. It soothed his soul, helped him get grounded, ready.
Except for today.
He and Caleb had stayed at Harley’s until nearly eleven. They’d plowed through a huge pot of chili with her dad and granddad. Logan and Lacy showed up in time for dessert after a quick text from Harley, inviting them out.
Then they had retired to the living room, where they’d fired up the instruments and played through every single one of their favorites. Her granddad made three phone calls to start the Maris chain and before they knew it, they were locked into doing a performance in the barn a week from Saturday. Before Tyson had made it home last night, he’d gotten no less than ten texts—most from his cousins, all promising to be there.
So he should be on top of the world this morning. Harley was home. The band was back together. He was going to spend next Saturday night doing his favorite thing—jamming out onstage, getting lost in the music, surrounded by the people he loved most.
Instead, he felt like a man living at the base of a volcano and the lava was sliding toward him. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Harley alone last night, to try to set things right after the last time they’d seen each other.
He should have started the conversation when it had just been her, Caleb and him in the living room, but it didn’t feel right to launch into it five minutes after she’d gotten back into town. Plus, he thought it might be easier to discuss without Caleb around, though that would definitely piss his friend off. The two of them had made this mess together, so they should straighten it out that way, too.
However, he and Caleb hadn’t really discussed that day since Harley’s departure, either. It was as if they’d tacitly agreed to simply let the subject drop until her return. Which had been stupid and shortsighted, but certainly safer. Now she was back, and he had tossed and turned all night, his mind racing over what the hell would happen now.
He and his best friend had acted on instinct, on impulse, and kissed Harley just four days after Johnnie’s funeral.
Harley had been devastated by the loss of her beloved brother, and neither he nor Caleb could stand seeing her so upset. So they’d gone to see her…
* * *
Harley’s granddad met them on the front porch when they climbed out of the car. He pointed toward the barn. “She said she was going to check on the horses about an hour ago.”
Tyson and Caleb knew there was precious little checking to be done. No doubt she’d wanted to be alone. They hesitated briefly before Mr. Mills waved his hand at them. “Go on and find her. See if she’s okay. I was about to do that very thing myself, but I’m sure she’d rather see you two.”
The older man stepped back into the house, so Tyson and Caleb headed for the barn. She was sitting in the far corner on a square bale of hay. Her eyes were puffy and red, betraying the fact she’d been crying. However, it appeared her sorrow had waned for the time being and now she just sat alone in the quiet, with a distant expression on her face.
They were halfway to her before she even noticed them. And then, in true Harley fashion, she dug deep for a friendly smile that looked like it threatened to crack her face. The damn woman was a master at hiding her sadness, at painting on cheerful expressions despite her misery.
Tyson hated that she felt like she had to hide her grief from them. She had been stoic throughout everything. Holding on to her composure when Johnnie fell ill and was rushed to the hospital, when he was taken off the ventilator and his heart stopped beating. She sat next to her granddad and planned the funeral without falling apart, taking care of all the things her parents were too weak to handle. She had spoken at the funeral with poise and grace, offering the most touching eulogy Tyson had ever heard.
There’d only been one dry eye in the place when she’d finished—hers.
“Hey.” Her voice was thick, hoarse. She’d obviously had a good, hard cry. Why did she feel like she had to hide those feelings from her granddad? From them?
Caleb plopped down next to her on the hay. “You doin’ okay, angel May?”
Caleb had a hundred funny little terms of endearment for Harley, and they never failed to put a smile on her face. Except this time.
She nodded slowly, and then changed her mind, shaking it instead. “No. I’m tired. And heavy. I can’t seem to find the energy to do anything.”
Tyson knelt in front of her. “That’s normal, Harley. You just spent the last few weeks in constant motion—staying at the hospital around the clock, and then dealing with the funeral and a never-ending stream of visitors. It’s no wonder you’re worn out.”
“I liked having something to do. When I was busy I could forget—” Her voice broke and Tyson’s heart ached.
“We’re right here, baby,” Caleb said, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Me and Tyson are going to h
elp you get through this.”
She didn’t respond. Instead her head bowed and her gaze fell to the floor. Tyson wondered if she was trying to hide her tears.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Harley had devoted her entire life to her kid brother. They’d been close as kids, and then, after Johnnie’s accident, it was as if Harley’s sole focus had narrowed down to a single pinpoint. Her brother.
Playing in the band had been her only escape. And even then, Johnnie served as their “manager,” a title Tyson had bestowed on him whenever her brother wheeled into the garage to listen to them practice and give his opinion on their sound and playlist.
She’d been just fourteen—Johnnie eleven—when he’d been thrown from his father’s motorcycle. Neither he nor his dad had grabbed helmets as they’d hopped on the bike to check on some cattle in one of the fields. Johnnie had been riding on the back, clinging to his dad, when they hit a deep rut. Johnnie had flown off and hit a rock at a very bad angle. It had left him paralyzed from the neck down.
In a single second, Harley’s entire family life had been tossed upside down.
Her dad, John, consumed with guilt, had turned to alcohol. Her mother, Polly, unable to deal with her son’s injury, had shut down. Harley had become mother, while Polly became a ghost in her own house. When things got too bad between her parents, they divorced, Polly had remarried within months and moved away from the farmhouse. Her granddad had taken over the rearing of his grandkids, but he owned and operated a large farm, so time wasn’t something he had a lot of. Which left far too much responsibility on Harley’s young shoulders when it came to caring for Johnnie.
Not that she’d ever complained. It hadn’t occurred to her to feel pressure or stress. She stopped talking about college, about growing up and moving out. From that day on, all the pieces of Harley’s life appeared to fall into what she considered the proper place, and she didn’t question “what if” or “why me”.
“I know it’s hard to believe now,” Tyson said, squeezing her hand, “but this will get easier. It’s just going to take some time.”
“My dad is in the drunk tank.”
The comment had come out of left field.
Or maybe not.
She looked up at Tyson. “Evan called a couple of hours ago. Said he’d gotten a call that my dad was sleeping in someone’s yard. When he got there, Dad was passed out cold, reeking of whiskey.”
“Everyone handles their grief in different ways.” It was a terrible answer. Her dad had been drunk pretty much every night since Johnnie’s accident, if you didn’t count the rare occasions he decided to dry out for a week or month.
She nodded. “My mom is already back with Art.”
Tyson sighed, while Caleb growled. “What about the apartment?”
Harley’s mother had decided five minutes before her son’s death that she wanted to leave her second husband. An action most people in town supported even though the timing sucked. Art Johnson was a judgmental, holier-than-thou prick.
She shrugged. “Bugsy said he’d let her out of the lease. I think he sort of knew it wasn’t going to stick, but he and Granddad are friends and he was trying to help, considering Johnnie…”
Harley didn’t seem able to bring herself to actually say the words. To admit that Johnnie was dead. Tyson suspected it would take time for her to come to grips with that fact.
“It was wrong of your mom to throw all that on you while you were dealing with Johnnie’s illness and the funeral.” Caleb didn’t bother to mask the disdain in his tone. Neither of them was fond of Harley’s mother. How such a weak-willed, whiny woman had managed to produce two amazing powerhouse kids was completely beyond Tyson.
Harley lifted one shoulder. “Even as we were packing her clothes and loading the furniture on the truck, I knew it was a total waste of time. Anyone need a secondhand bed? Only been slept in twice.”
In the past, she’d made light of her parents’ problems, but there was no denying this time, she couldn’t laugh it off.
Tyson reached for her, merely planning to hug her. At least, that was his original intent. But something happened. He moved forward and Harley lifted her face. Their lips touched and then…
Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he cupped her cheeks.
Tyson had indulged in platonic kisses, as well as others that were friendly or lukewarm or the occasional sloppy first attempts back in high school. He’d even experienced some burn-the-house-down kisses with a couple girlfriends at college.
This one blew everything he’d ever known and felt about kissing out of the water. Harley’s touch was so ravenous, so passionate, so scorching hot, he was surprised the hay didn’t catch fire.
And through it all, he was completely aware, almost hyper in-tune to the fact Caleb was watching the whole thing.
Tyson’s hands drifted from her face to her breasts, cupping them firmly, then squeezing. Harley moaned quietly against his mouth. He wasn’t sure who pulled back first, but when their lips parted, that’s when things really heated up.
Because as Tyson leaned back on his haunches, trying to catch his breath, trying to process what had just happened, Caleb was right there, ready to take his place.
* * *
Tyson glanced up when he heard the sliding door open. Caleb stepped out onto the deck with a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed for the day, even though it was early.
Tyson was as aware of Caleb’s work schedule as he was his own. On Mondays, Caleb’s parents opened the Feed and Seed, which Cal took advantage of, sleeping in an extra hour or two. Unlike Tyson, Caleb could sleep until noon without even rolling over. Not that he’d had many opportunities to sleep in lately. Caleb’s dad had suffered a minor heart attack a few months earlier and his recovery had been slow. As such, Caleb had taken over the majority of the work, keeping the family businesses running.
Caleb nodded, moving sluggishly to the chair next to his. His friend was a slow mover until he had the first cup or two of strong black coffee in him. “I gotta be back in town at nine for a delivery. Mom was worried Dad would try to overdo it, unloading the truck.”
It was unusual for Caleb to join Tyson for what he dubbed his friend’s morning meditation. As such, Tyson waited. Caleb was out here for a reason, probably the same reason that had Tyson feeling so uptight and anxious.
“What’s on your mind, Cal?”
“Harley looked good last night.”
“Yeah, she did,” Tyson agreed.
Harley always looked good. Always. And not because she was some fashion plate or glamour queen. In truth, it was rare to see her in anything other than faded jeans and T-shirts. She never curled or styled her dark brown hair. Instead, she just let it hang loose and wavy over her shoulders.
Of course, Tyson hadn’t really noticed her beauty until last year. They’d been best friends since God was a baby. Which meant her looks had always taken a backseat to her personality and her talent. Once you’ve rolled around in a person’s head a bit, their hair and clothes don’t matter all that much.
His eyes had been opened after one stupid, thoughtless, incredible act, and now he couldn’t close them again.
Caleb sighed. “We should have talked to her about those kisses. Not like the three of us to avoid stuff. Used to be we had a problem, we talked it out.”
Tyson respected his friend’s forthright way of dealing with stuff. There wasn’t much that ever hovered in the air between Caleb and his friends. If something was bothering him, Caleb just said it right out and they dealt with it.
Or at least, they had.
Caleb had gone uncharacteristically quiet about the situation. Last year and last night. Tyson should have known that silence wouldn’t last.
“The kisses were a problem?” Tyson asked.
Caleb didn’t respond to that immediately, but his silence told Tyson the truth more than his words. Caleb didn’t regret the kisses anymore than he did.
“You kno
w what I mean.” It was a vague answer, but Caleb was right. He understood.
Tyson took a sip of coffee and tried to sort out his thoughts. “She just got back into town, Cal.”
“I know. And I didn’t sleep a wink last night. How about you?”
“I’ve had better nights.”
Caleb ran his hand through his hair. “You think we were part of the reason why she ran?”
Tyson did, but he also knew they weren’t the only thing, or even the main thing, that propelled her out of town as fast as her beat-up Toyota could carry her. “Yeah. I’m sure we were part of it. But there was a lot of shit piling up on her. We can’t blame her for wanting to escape for a little while. Losing Johnnie, her folks. Damn, she’d been a powder keg set to go off for years. The time away obviously did her a lot of good. Gave her a chance to figure out who she was without Johnnie. You know what I mean?”
Caleb nodded. “Yeah. She really did look good. Healthy. Happy.” Caleb fell silent for just a moment before asking, “You think we’re part of the reason she came back?”
Tyson hadn’t considered that, but he sure as hell hoped so. “She never intended to stay away forever. Her family is here, the farm, us.”
Despite that, Tyson had spent the last year in a state of never-ending anxiety, afraid Harley would decide the grass was greener in Florida.
“She never texted us, never called.” It was obvious Caleb had spent a good bit of the last year fretting too. “She’s never done that. I didn’t like it. Felt like she was avoiding us.”
Tyson and Caleb probably should have talked about what had happened at some point in the past twelve months, but—at least from Tyson’s perspective—he’d already lost one best friend. He sure as shit didn’t want to run the risk of getting into a fight with Caleb over the girl who had left both of them.